


strangers, but not for long.

by ohlookatthestars (KanbaraAkhito)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, T for the mugging? i like to be safe be safe kids, i should be studying, inconsistent tags oh yes, its set in a rainstorm like a really bad rainstorm be safe kids, ive been getting into so many rarepairs recently and i want to be stabbed, or like an almost mugging?, there's a mugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:37:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KanbaraAkhito/pseuds/ohlookatthestars
Summary: He’s soaked by now, but he doesn’t notice the cold because of how hard he’s shaking. He splashes through puddles, barely able to see through the sheets of rain that blur his vision. Everything in him focuses on escaping, so much so that as he turns onto a wider, more populated road, he doesn’t notice, doesn’t look up, until he crashes, falling into the person’s chest.Panic grips him again like a vice, and he moves backwards, pausing only when he hears his name spoken in a deep, vaguely familiar cadence.“…Shibayama?”





	strangers, but not for long.

Shibayama sighs, a frown adorning his features as he looks out at the pouring rain and dark sky. He’d stayed late at the school and had made a stop to pick up medicine at a small apothecary at his mother’s request. A cat yowls across the street, streaking into an alleyway to hide from the streaming torrents of water. Tugging at his thin jacket, he wishes he’d checked the weather this morning. 

Setting his mouth, the young libero flips his hood up and hurries along the sidewalk, the medicine tucked away as he watches his footsteps to avoid puddles and slipping. He turns onto a smaller side street, knowing it as a shortcut to the bus stop, though he’s only ever crossed it during the day. The shadows of the alleys seem to come alive and Shibayama shudders, huddling into his jacket and speeding up his stride. 

Maybe it’s because he’s focused on the pavement, but he doesn’t feel the mugger’s presence until it’s too late. The hands that grab his arm are rough and large, but hesitant, as though the person is desperate, inexperienced. He’s shoved into the wall of an alley between two buildings, cheek scraping on the uneven stone. The thief comes at him again and Shibayama throws his hands up, nearly choking on his own fear. Feeling hands searching at his pockets, hasty and almost anxious, the young high schooler shoves instinctively, his mind and body screaming at him to _run_. He stumbles over his feet, a sob tearing out of his throat when his arm is yanked backwards. Turning, he sees the silvery glint of a knife, and the panic threatens to overwhelm him, he is so, _so, scared_. 

The mugger pauses then, as if he himself is afraid, and Shibayama takes the moment of hesitation to rip his arm away and _run_ , the pounding of his heart in his ears louder than the rain. He’s soaked by now, but he doesn’t notice the cold because of how hard he’s shaking. He splashes through puddles, barely able to see through the sheets of rain that blur his vision. Everything in him focuses on escaping, so much so that as he turns onto a wider, more populated road, he doesn’t notice, doesn’t look up, until he crashes, falling into the person’s chest.

Panic grips him again like a vice, and he moves backwards, pausing only when he hears his name spoken in a deep, vaguely familiar cadence.

“…Shibayama?”

He turns his face up to match the voice with the face and is surprised to see the bemused face of Nohebi’s wing spiker, Kuguri Naoyasu. Time seems to speed up all of a sudden and Shibayama’s breaths become choppy as he throws himself into the other’s body, shaking so hard he’s afraid he’ll fall apart. Kuguri is surprisingly gentle for someone whose features are nearly always set in an apathetic stare. For someone who has maybe seen Shibayama once in his entire life. A hand rests between Shibayama’s shoulder blades, sliding gently up and down, and his chest rises and falls in slow, calming movements that allows the boy huddled against him to match, breathing easier. 

When Shibayama has calmed a little Kuguri nudges his face up gently, the frown on his features barely noticeable, but Shibayama is overly sensitive right now, so he notices.

“Shibayama, did something happen?”

The event comes rushing back to him and he feels the fear climbing in his throat, remembering that metallic flash. For a few moments, he had really thought he was going to die. He didn’t run too far, he realizes, and is gripped by a sudden desperation to get _out_ of there.

Meeting Kuguri’s gaze he shakes his head, voice coming out wobbly and thick, “I-I…was on one of the smaller streets a-and there was this person…w-with a _knife_ , and-” 

Kuguri nods, seemingly having heard enough to understand before casting a quick, wary look around them. He turns back to Shibayama and tugs the boy’s hood up, although he seems too soaked and afraid to care. Kuguri’s own windbreaker stopped being useful a long time ago. 

“…My house isn’t far from here. It’s too dark and the weather’s bad enough that the buses may have stopped early due to safety precautions. You can stay over, if you’d like.” 

Shibayama seems to consider this for a moment, surprised and thankful, before nodding. He opens his mouth to express his gratitude but a thumping sound breaks the steady patter of the rain and he tenses, although he knows it’s probably just an alley-dwelling creature curling under a box. Kuguri notices this and nods once more, taking another quick look before leading Shibayama down the street. 

He doesn’t say anything about the way the smaller boy’s hand is fisted in his jacket.

\---

By the time they reach the house, the wind has bitten their cheeks red and there is no part of them that isn’t drenched. 

As they fall into the house, Shibayama feels the warmth soak into his face and the feeling of safety is nearly overwhelming. 

“Sorry for the intrusion,” he says, quietly, his voice slightly hoarse but no longer shaking. 

He bites his lip, suddenly unsure of what to do as he drips onto the floor of a boy who he’d seen cry because of a loss to his own team. He hears Kuguri shuffling behind him, taking his shoes off and stowing them away.

“My parents are on a business trip and my little sister is staying with a friend. We have the house to ourselves.” 

Shibayama nods and follows Kuguri a little farther into the house. It’s a comforting place, the floors paneled with wood, a small, cozy living room opening into a little kitchen to the right of the entryway. Feeling his socks squelch uncomfortably, he suddenly feels guilty for dripping all over the floor of a boy he barely knows. Feeling Kuguri’s eyes on him, he looks up, surprised to see that faint concern turning down the corners of his mouth. Making a decision, the elder boy leans over lightly, hands coming up to rest light, but firm on Shibayama’s shoulders.

“Hey. It’s alright to not be okay after that. People downplay it, but mugging can be terrifying,” his frown deepens, “Not to mention dangerous. Don’t try and push it down, you’re allowed to be upset and afraid about it.”

It hadn’t been what Shibayama had expected to come out of Kuguri’s mouth, though the words seem to have opened a gate, and his emotions push to the surface. The fear, the panic, the horrible, twisting feeling that came from thinking you were going to die. For the second time that night, Shibayama launches himself into Kuguri’s arms, but this time, he lets himself go, sobbing into the wetness of the other boy’s jacket. He supposes Kuguri should feel cold to the touch, but something about him is very, very warm.

\---

Kuguri directs him to the shower, a fresh towel and a warm set of clothes waiting for him when he comes out. He’s feeling much better now, fresh, with the warmth of the shower lingering on his skin, though his eyes are still red rimmed and puffy. The sweatshirt Kuguri had laid out for him falls past his thighs, almost at his knees, and his hands are lost somewhere along the length of the sleeves. It wasn’t an astonishing discovery, seeing as Kuguri had a good eighteen centimeters on him. Seeming to have known there wasn’t a chance Shibayama would fit in his sweatpants, the wing spiker had instead left a pair of soft, cotton shorts with adjustable ties at the waist. They still touched the top of his calves but Shibayama felt warm and safe, the clothes emanating a smell like wind, clear and fresh, but comforting and familiar as well. For the first time that night, a smile graces the libero’s features, accompanied by a rushing sense of gratitude for the boy probably waiting for him somewhere outside the door to this bedroom. He’s aware that they hardly know each other, but something about that thought makes him overflow with happiness. 

He finds Kuguri in the kitchen, warming up two bowls of what Shibayama thinks is ramen. He’s in dry clothes and his hair is still slightly wet from a wash in the other bathroom. 

Their gazes meet and Kuguri tilts his head to the side.

“Feeling better?” he asks, seeming satisfied when he receives a nod, “Is ramen okay? I can cook something too, if you like.”

Shibayama shakes his head vehemently, not wanting to inconvenience the spiker any more than he already has, chewing at his lip in embarrassment when he sees amusement flicker in Kuguri’s eyes. 

They sit on the couch, steaming bowls resting atop the coffee table as they blow at the noodles before slurping them up. When they’re finished Kuguri waves off Shibayama’s offer to do the dishes and reminds him that he should probably tell his parents where he’s staying, else they think something’s happened. A shriek leaves Shibayama’s mouth at that, and he claps his sleeved hand against his mouth. How could he have forgotten to call his mother? Kuguri’s mouth turns up ever so slightly at the corners and if Shibayama wasn’t desperately searching for his phone, he’d have marveled at how beautiful Kuguri looked when he was smiling. As it is, Kuguri nods him towards the counter, and Shibayama bows embarrassedly, before padding to the couch and scrolling to his mother’s contact. 

Kuguri is quiet as Shibayama informs his mother of the situation, staying by the sink for much longer than it probably took to wash two bowls. He comes and sits next to Shibayama when the latter quietly tells his mother about the mugging, reassuring her that he was fine multiple times when she exclaimed, expressing her worry. It’s still scary, but part of it feels a little surreal now that he’s sitting in a warm, dry place with a storm raging on outside. Like the eye of a hurricane. 

After setting the phone to the side, Shibayama turns towards Kuguri, sincerity in his posture.

“Kuguri-san, thank you. Really, I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t run into you, and I don’t know how I would have handled the…situation had you not been there to help. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you.” 

Kuguri doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally does, it’s, “You know, you seem to be more like a puppy than a cat.”

Somehow, Shibayama understands this as Kuguri’s way of saying, _‘don’t mention it.’_

He laughs, and replies, “Well you aren’t much like a snake, yourself,” he pauses, thinking, “More like…a bear?”

That sounds wrong, and Kuguri raises his eyebrows just as Shibayama shakes his head.

“No, maybe more like…a jungle cat!”

“So now I’m the cat? That’s a bit ironic, don’t you think?”

Shibayama concedes this and they fall into a comfortable conversation, Shibayama doing most of the talking, though Kuguri’s involvement is clear. He seems to enjoy listening to the anecdotes and silly antics that the Nekoma team gets up to. Shibayama even pulls a laugh from him with the story of how Lev had nearly destroyed their gym hanging up fairy lights for Christmas. Well, it’s more of an amused puff of air, but it makes something in Shibayama’s stomach tingle nonetheless. 

Eventually, the day’s events and the calming effect of simply talking tires them out, and Kuguri suggests they go to bed. He situates Shibayama in Kuguri’s own room, insisting on taking the couch or his sister’s bed, but is stopped by a gentle tug on his hoodie. The sleeves of his sweatshirt are rolled back on Shibayama’s arms so he can use his hands and the nervousness in the gesture makes the whole situation rather adorable. He waits patiently, already gathering an idea of what the boy most likely wanted to ask him. The Nekoma libero had had an exhausting day, physically and emotionally, and he doubts anyone would want to be alone after that. So when Shibayama stutters out a request for him to stay, he simply nods, curling up on one side of the bed.

If they wake up tangled together, no one else is the wiser.

\---

Shibayama practically leaps down the stone steps that lead up to his porch, one hand clutched around the handle of his bag, the other already reaching out to curl around the person standing at the bottom. When he does, Kuguri’s mouth tilts, pleased, before he leans down to press a soft kiss against the libero’s forehead.

They chat and tease each other as they set of down the street, fingers finding one another and fitting together as the chilly autumn breeze nips at the exposed bits of their skin.

Kuguri laughs at a startlingly cheesy joke Shibayama had learned from Lev and the sound makes Shibayama’s heart skip a beat.

Yuuki smiles wide, squeezing their hands where they’re linked together. Naoyasu smiles back.

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha rarepairs are fun, i really should be studying though. i hope y'all enjoyed it :) writing/art tumblr: @firepriincezuko


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